


Blonde Bond

by imgilmoregirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Gen, Past Rumbelle, Woobie Weaver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-27 10:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14423238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgilmoregirl/pseuds/imgilmoregirl
Summary: Shortly after his wife's passing, Weaver receives a visit from his partner, detective Rogers, in which he tells him he is the biological father of his adoptive daughter, Tilly.





	1. Blonde Bond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NropaY_OneEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NropaY_OneEye/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters and storylines in the show. This is just a fanwork made for fun.
> 
> Nropay was talking about WovenKnightRook (that's the name, right?) on tumblr recently, so this fic happened. If you want more, leave me prompts!

Detective Alexander Weaver had three things he loved dearly in his life and that he would do anything for, but in the last months, these had been reduced to two. He had been married to a woman named Isobel - who he called Belle for short - for eighteen years and she had made him really happy, but the two of them had always felt a lack on their lives, because as much as they tried, Belle couldn't get pregnant. After a few years of failed attempts of conceiving a baby, they decided to adopt and ended-up bringing home a beautiful toddler girl who they named Tilly.

Life was nice. He had a good job, Belle did too, Tilly went to school and sometimes skipped class to walk around town, but everything changed the day his told him she finally was expecting the child they so wished ever since they got married. The only problem was that Belle was now thirty-eight and pregnancy had complications. She died of eclampsia just hours after giving birth to baby Gideon.

Now, Weaver was stuck at home, trying to not cry every single time he entered their bedroom or opened the closet and saw all of her clothes still hanging in there. He needed to be strong because he had two children to take care of and he was starting to feel like it was Tilly who was doing his job most of the time. She was devasted by her mother's death, they were really close and Belle was the only one able to soothe her when she was having a bad day, but now the girl spent most of her time divided between hiding herself in secret places around town and taking care of Gideon and him.

Weaver had never felt more like a failure than he did lately, his life was a mess, he had to go back to work on the next Monday and still hadn’t found a nanny. Tilly was out, she said something about visiting that girl, Margot, but he hadn’t really paid much attention to it. He was hopelessly trying to make Gideon sleep just after having fed him a whole bottle of formula when he heard the knock on the door.

His first thought was that Tilly had forgotten her keys again, so he moved the squealing babe to one arm and made his way to it, already planning the whole speech he would have for her, however when he got it open, he didn’t find his daughter, but detective Rogers.

“Hello, Weaver,” his partner greeted him. “I’d like to have a word with you.”

He blinked at the man, because he was the last person he would ever expect to see there. Weaver wasn’t much of a friendly person and Rogers had started to work as his partner shortly before he had taken a really extended paternity leave after Belle died and he had no one to look after his new-born son, but he had made his first few days in the precinct a real hell, testing him in every single way he could. There was no reason for the detective to appear by his door, even more now that his time back to work was so close.

“Can we do it on Monday? I’m a bit occupied now.”

As if to emphasize his words, Gideon let out a loud irritated wail, squirming in his arms and making look down. That baby was as impatient as Belle.

“Yeah, so it seems,” Rogers murmured. “I’ve never said how sorry I am for Isobel. She was a lovely person.”

Weaver nodded, brushing the pad of his thumb against one of his son’s eyebrows, contemplating how little and perfect he was. He had vowed to protect that child and give the best life could offer to him, his last words to his beloved Belle, a shattered, choked promise that he would love after their children.

“That’s all?”

“No, I… I actually came here because of your daughter, Tilly.”

Sighing deeply, he looked up at the detective. If he was there because of his girl – his stubborn, joyful girl – then there was only one thing he could think of. The school. She hated school most of the time and her way of expressing how shaken she was by her mother’s death, was not going to it, when she was supposed to. He had received plentily enough calls from the principal to know that this was becoming a constant problem.

“Oh, great, she skipped class again, didn’t she?”

“Not that I know,” Rogers answered with a frown. “Listen, years ago I had a girlfriend named Eloise. Soon enough I found out she was not who I though and we broke up. I never saw her again.”

“Rogers, I’m not up to hearing your tales. If you didn’t get it, I have a very fussy baby who needs some attention right now.”

Gideon wasn’t stopping crying. Usually, it would be the moment he would break down without knowing what to do, but he was in front of Rogers and he wouldn’t ruin his reputation at the prescient by crying in front of his partner.

“You don’t understand. I arrested Eloise weeks ago and she mocked me about the fact she had a child of mine and gave it away,” the other man hurriedly said before Weaver could attempt to stop him again and in Rogers’ eyes he saw something he recognised when he looked at himself on the mirror: the pain of losing something way too precious. He lifted a black folder up, sighing wearingly. “I tried everything since then, until I ended up with these files. The child she gave away _is Tilly_.”

Mouth falling open, Weaver didn’t know what to say, all he could do was to hold the baby tighter, cradling his small head on his huge hand. When he and Belle agreed to go for an adoption, he never thought someday he would have to face his daughter’s biological father and actually pity him. He was trying to think about the right think to say, but nothing came and then it was too late, because Tilly arrived home with another girl following her, smiling as she adjusted the glasses in her face.

“Papa! Good you have the door open, I forgot my keys,” the cheerful blonde said, smacking a kiss on his cheek before looking up at Rogers. “Hello, detective!”

“Hi.”

“Can Margot stay over?” Tilly asked, grabbing the girl’s hand in hers and blinking those puppy eyes on his direction, although Weaver was barely paying attention at what she said. “If you say yes, I’ll get Gideon and we’ll take care of him so you might have a few hours of rest.”

“Sure,” he found himself murmuring, still astonished by the things Rogers said,

Margot then, reached for the baby in his arms and he blinked when he understood that the smiley teenager wanted him to hand the squealing little thing to her. He swallowed hard, carefully laying Gideon in her safe arms.

“Thank you, Mr. Weaver,” Margot exclaimed, before murmuring to Gideon, in a childish tone: “Who is the sweetest wee thing in this world?”

The girls disappeared through the door and he was left to stare at his partner, knowing that the only constant thing in his life was about to change drastically.


	2. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of an angsty flicket, but I intend to have more fluff going on in the future. I’m still open to prompts for it, if anyone wants to send me one!

The lights in the hospital’s corridor were too white, they bothered Rogers eyes, making him want to switch them off, but without light they would be unable to see properly and catch all of the evidences. He was expecting Weaver’s first day back to work to be a boring day analysing papers at the precinct, which would give him enough time to annoy his partner until he finally said something, however, as soon as they arrived the detectives were informed that there had been a murder, so there they were, staring at the dead doctor.

"Weaver - "

"No."

"But - "

"I've said no!"

By the dark bags under his eyes, Rogers could say that Weaver was being sleep deprived lately, probably thanks to the wee lass he was being forced to raise all alone. The babe didn’t seem much happy that day, screaming with all the strength his young lungs had, so he bet the nights weren’t exactly easier. He knew Weaver was all grumpy and demanding in a daily basis, when he didn’t have to take care of any new-born and that now he was probably only willing to get worse, but he couldn’t wait forever, not after that last talk with Eloise Gardner.

"We need to talk," Rogers started. "You slammed the door shut at my face instead of saying something."

"You know what? We are here to analyse the freaking crime-scene and not to talk, so shut up."

"I can't shut up. Tilly is _my_ daughter!"

Weaver slowly turned around and Rogers shrunk. No much men were capable of making him feel the slightest afraid, but the look Weaver casted him made him feel like he could start to burn by magic at any second.

"No, _she is not_ ," the detective said behind clenched teeth. "She was just a one-year-old when Belle and I adopted her. _We_ did everything, _we_ raised her, so you and the psycho bitch still locked in the precinct might have made her, but you were _never_ her parents."

"I didn't know she existed," Rogers yelled back.

It was a luck they were alone in there, otherwise someone would have already come to check if another murder wasn’t just about to happen. Rogers’ hand was tightened into a fist and he felt himself shaking with anger, not exactly anger towards Weaver, but Eloise, the fate and everything else. The oldest detective took a threatening step into his direction, eyes narrowing dangerously

"If you forget to wear a condom, you should at least worry about it," Weaver remarked.

"I want to tell her," was Rogers’ only answer.

He knew he had been irresponsible and he didn’t need his partner to point this out, but that didn’t erase the fact it was mostly Eloise’s fault, for never telling him about Tilly and for giving her away so easily.

"You're not telling her anything because you have no right to," Weaver answered, harshly. "She is legally mine, don't you understand? You know nothing about her. _I do._ Tilly has good days and bad days. She skips class sometimes, she likes to read, she needs to take those blue pills to keep her mind in place. I've spent the last year stalking this Margot girl to make sure she is good enough for her, because knowing my daughter I'm sure the two of them share mutual feelings."

Rogers blinked at the recited list. Weaver was right. Of all those things, he knew none about her. Something that felt like pity made his stomach gurgle and his breath get caught on his throat.

"Look, I know you must be angry and I know you're a dedicate father. For that, I'm grateful," he said, sincerely. "I just want to get to know her a little bit, because if I had the choice I would have raised her myself."

“It is not about what you wanted or not, Rogers, it is about her,” Weaver shook his head. “Tilly has just lost the only mother she knew in this life. It may not look so, but she is grieving. That’s the last thing she needs right now. It will only make her suffer more.”

There was a lump on his throat. He hadn’t stopped to think about that. Rogers had only seen Isobel Weaver a few times and most of them she had Tilly by her side, jumping excitedly like a kid, normally talking about the last book she had read or planning to play chess with her. They always seemed inseparable and he couldn’t even begin to imagine how painful it would have been for the girl to lose the only woman who ever cared for her.

“I don’t want Tilly to suffer, I want her to know that she has not been abandoned and that I do care for her.”

“Not now,” Weaver insisted.

He turned back into his job of analysing the dead body in front of him, looking for any bruises that could indicate a fight, but even from where Rogers still was, standing behind him, he could tell there were no wounds to be found. He sank both hands – the real and the plastic one – into his jacket’s pockets, snorting as he helplessly continued to think about his recently found daughter.

“Does she know that she is adopted?”

“Oh no, she imagines she is the only blonde in her family because she got lucky,” Weaver responded, sarcastically, rolling his eyes at him before clarifying: “Of course, she does.”

“And what does she think about that?”

“No child likes to think her parents threw her on an orphanage,” he answered and this time he sounded bitter in a different way, _sad_ , Rogers would risk to say. “Or worse, that her crazy mother left her on a dirty apartment, crying and hungry for a whole day before the police found her.”

This time, he swallowed hard. During their talk, Eloise hadn’t given much details about Tilly, just that she was a girl and that she hated her every single day of her pregnancy, but he imagined she would have left her at the hospital to be taken directly to the system or something like that, but not done what Weaver just said. It was cruel, even for her.

“Eloise did _that_?”

“Nice way of saying goodbye, huh?”

“Bitch,” he cursed under his breath.

Weaver’s phone started to ring and he rose on his feet, fishing it from his pocked and arching and eyebrow at the number shining on the flat screen.

“It is Sabine,” he pointed out. “You said she knew how to take care of a baby. Are you still sure about that? Because if something has happened to my son I might use my gun on you.”

A little laugh left his lips as Rogers shook his head.

“I can guarantee the lad is fine.”

There was a nod and then Weaver left the room, Rogers staying alone with the doctor’s body trying to decide if he should do exactly what he wanted and ignore Weaver’s pleas to stay away from Tilly for now or just ignore it completely and give himself a chance of knowing his daughter.


	3. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nropay prompted: Weaver have a bad dream about this situation. (Like, Alice choose to go with Rogers and don’t want to talk to him or Gothel choose to do something and stole the custody.) Bonus points if he got Alice’s hug.

He had seen Eloise Garden only once. Weaver wasn’t proud to say that he let his curiosity win and called her into the investigation room and kept watching her from the TV screen in his room, trying to find any similarity between her and Tilly, until he got tired and told one of the other detectives to put her back into her cell. It was hard to admit, but he had seen his sweet daughter in that crazy woman.

She had been accused of Victoria Belfrey’s murder weeks ago and should remain in there until her judgment. There was enough proof to get her in jail for many years, Weaver knew because he had read all the files about her case. Eloise was a disgusting, heartless woman and still, she had Tilly’s hair, chin and ears. Thinking about that made him grit his teeth. Things shouldn’t be like this.

Weaver had relucted in accepting adoption, but each passing year without a child seemed to dim Belle’s light a bit. She had always dreamed to have a family with him and not being able to have it made her hate herself, so he had agreed, they had entered the system and Tilly was given to them. It had been one of the happiest days of his life, nothing could ever pay the sight of Belle happily cradling the beautiful toddler in her arms, whispering how much she would be loved and cared for. It was meant to be her dream coming true, but now Belle was gone and he was all alone, facing a nightmare.

A part of him wished he could see something of her and him in Tilly like he was slowly starting to see in little Gideon, so he could make sure nobody was ever going to take her away. His poor girl didn’t deserve to have Eloise Gardner’s blood and he didn’t want her to ever know who her birthmother was. Weaver didn’t have any problems with Rogers though, despite of the fact he feared once Tilly knew him she could like him best than she ever liked him.

Those twisted thoughts lulled him to sleep that night after he pulled Gideon down for the second time and he finally drowned into sleep. Weaver was tired. He hadn’t slept a full night ever since his wife died and most days he really wanted to seek refuge in his dreams, because Belle was always there, being that sweet angel who would say all the right words and do all the right things. But tonight, she wasn’t there.

He was in the precinct, sitting by his desk with Tilly by his side. They played chess, her favourite game and she had a glowing smile on her lips, so sweet and innocent that Weaver thought he hadn’t being paying the right attention to it lately, she was light, like Belle used to say. Tilly made a movement and then a shadow came above them and Tilly was pulled up by the arm.

At first, she screamed, fighting against the hand that gripped her, but then Eloise’s face came into focus and Tilly’s expression softened. She smiled at her and then threw her arms around the woman, who hugged her back, laughing the kind of laugh he swore Eloise wasn’t capable of, because it was a soft, girlish giggle that no murderer could do.

Weaver tried to pull his daughter away from her yelling how she couldn’t trust in that woman and how she was going to hurt her, however Tilly wasn’t hearing him, she took some steps back and tripped, being caught in time by Rogers, who pulled his hands possessively around her shoulders, smiling as Eloise joined them at the precinct’s door.

“Tilly,” Weaver murmured, impotent. “Please, you can’t go with them.”

She shook her head, gripping each of her real parent’s hands in hers.

“I’ve already made my choice.”

He woke up with a loud scream, panting for breath, looking around to find himself in his living room, with the file about the dead doctor’s case open in his lap and a cold cup of tea placed on the tiny table beside him. Weaver took a deep breath, rubbing at his eyes and checking the digital clock to see that Gideon miraculously was sleeping for about four hours now, which was a record. Steps echoed in the hallway and he saw that it was Tilly who came rushing from her bedroom, startled and sleepy.

“Papa, are you alright?” She asked. “I’ve heard you screaming.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart, it was just a bad dream.”

Tilly nodded, passing a hand through her messy blonde hair and walking towards him, curling herself up on the couch next to him. She was wearing stripy blue pyjamas that made him remember about the endless nights he had tucked her into bed and read stories to her; she didn’t need them anymore, but he was glad to know that he and Belle had been the ones to raise her not Eloise and Rogers.

Suddenly, Weaver pulled her close, hugging Tilly as tight as he could and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She was there and she had no idea of who her biological parents were. She wasn’t going away and his dream was never going to come true. Well, at least that was what he was trying to convince himself of.

“What is happening, papa?” Tilly questioned, looking up at him. “Was your dream about mama?”

“No, dearest,” he answered. “It was about you.”

She blinked, parting from him so she could look into his warm brown eyes that were currently marked with dark circles.

“About me? And was it bad?”

“Yeah,” Weaver nodded. “Someone had taken you away from me.”

A little smile spread on her lips as she moved forward to throw her arms around his neck and smack a kiss on his cheek. One of the things Tilly liked the most was to feel loved and Belle had always been the one to reassure her every single day of how much she was cared for, but Tilly knew very well that her grumpy papa liked her as much as she did.

“Don’t worry, papa,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a loud wail and Weaver knew his resting time was over, he should tend for Gideon now and prepare him a bottle of formula, then when the babe fell asleep, he could try take a chance of sleeping a bit more again, this time without nightmares, if he was lucky enough.

“Well, apparently I am,” he chuckled, standing up and tapping Tilly’s shoulder one last time. “Go back to bed, sweetheart. I’ll take care of him.”

He made his way to the nursery but stopped in front of Belle’s photograph in the hallway, silently asking her to help him to decide what was the right thing to do, because he couldn’t make the decision all alone. Tilly was still _theirs_.


	4. Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogers tries an approximation with Tilly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some CuriousArcher feelings in this one plus Rogers being cute, because yeah, I need it.

It was twenty minutes past the school 's exit and there were two girls still hanging around there, lost in a conversation, sharing smiles and playing with each other's fingers as they talked. Most days they would do just that and kill some time before going home, Margot was always finding an excuse to stay away from her mother and Tilly, now that hers was dead, wanted to do everything she could to just forget. They were sat on the ground, taking a look at the newest pictures Margot has taken from around town, when the girl caught a sight of someone crossing the street and almost let her smartphone fall.

"Oh, you're so screwed up," she murmured under her breath taking a look at Tilly's face as she glanced up to see detective Rogers walking towards them.

Her cheeks went suddenly blank, losing the adorable flush Margot so loved and the smallest girl rose on her feet, looking a bit scared. Weaver never really told any of his partners to follow her and see what his daughter was up to, but then before he had Belle to take care of her when he was working and now he had no one.

"Tilly," Rogers said in a greeting, smiling widely at her.

"Detective, did my father send you here?"

"No," he shook his head. "I actually came on my own."

Margot jump up on her feet, standing protectively in front of Tilly, arms crossed and a defying look on greenish eyes. She didn't know when this thing of always wanting to protect Tilly Weaver had started, but she was pretty sure it was almost immediately after she moved to Hyperion Heights and the two of them met at school.

"You did?" Margot asked.

"Why?" Tilly inquired.

"I thought I could buy you an ice cream and take you home," Rogers answered, eyes fixed on Tilly.

Arching an eyebrow at him, Margot tried to think what exactly he could be planning by doing this. Maybe he was one of those creepy people she usually saw on the news, ready to take Tilly away and kill her on a desert road.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted too."

"None of papa's partners ever bought me ice cream," the girl shrugged.

"Yeah, good point," Rogers seemed a bit uncomfortable. "I bet they didn't."

Furrowing, Margot passed an around the other girl's shoulders, letting it clear that she wasn't alone and wherever Tilly went, she went too.

"Anyway, I was going to take Tilly home today," Margot interfered, with her most innocent and girlish voice, hoping it would convince the man to just go away. "Mr. Weaver always enjoys help and I know how to prepare a wonderful spaghetti. Besides it gives me a chance to escape from seeing my mom making out with her newest crappy boyfriend on our couch."

"I can buy ice creams for both of you them," Rogers offered.

Well, if he was willing to take both of them, maybe things weren't so bad. After all she heard most cops were lonely.

"Alright, that's a go," she said. "The girls like candies too."

"I don't know, I should help out with my baby brother and I have to take the things that are with me now," Tilly replied, ponderously.

"Oh," Margot mumbled. "We will be on a hurry, detective, you better have strong legs."

In that moment, she took Tilly's hand on hers and the two of them started running towards the nearest ice cream shop like two children, giggling happily for having left Rogers behind.

"Wait," they heard him scream. "Tilly! Margot!"

When they arrived the shop, all of them were panting, but only the girls were laughing. Rogers looked at them as if they were crazy brats, which only made the pair laugh harder, until they really needed to stop and just breathe.

"Strawberry please," Margot asked.

"Bubble-gum," Tilly said, letting herself fall on one of the chairs set outside of the shop.

"Right," Rogers rolled his eyes, entering it and ordering their ice creams.

It didn't take him long to appear with three cones in his hands, giving one to each of the girls, that took them happily, starting to eat, immediately. Rogers took a moment to just appreciate the view as he held his chocolate ice cream, watching the way Tilly stopped to steal from Margot's strawberry one and offered a bit of hers in exchange for the spoons she caught.

"So, I was thinking..." He started after some time when he thought it was already safe to start a conversation.

Rogers didn't know when he had started to consider doing exactly why Weaver told him not to and tell Tilly that he was his biological daughter, but he knew he was risking a lot. Margot unfortunately seemed to be sensing he would do something very game-changing, because she kept narrowing her eyes at him, even more now that she seemed to be anticipating what he had to say. But Rogers didn't have time to finish his sentence, because a cell-phone started to buzz loudly, interrupting the conversation.

"Shit, it's my father," Tilly cursed, after fishing her phone and taking a look at the screen. "I should be home, I need to get going, detective or he is going to start on 'Matilda how many times have I told you to go straight home' and I'll be grounded for the week."

"'Matilda?" Rogers blinked.

"It's my name," she shrugged.

"I thought your name was Tilly."

Rolling her eyes, Margot snorted, stretching an arm behind the smaller girl.

"Nobody calls her Matilda, but it's a book thing and we have to be loyal to literature."

Tilly started to stand up and Rogers knew that his opportunity was long lost now, she looked down at the other girl and got a hold of her hand, worrying at her own lip.

"Margot."

"Yeah, almost five o'clock, I know," she said, grabbing her backpack and nodding to Rogers. "Thanks for the ice cream."

Then, they disappeared down the street and Rogers was left alone to wonder how long it would still be before he could get the right change to talk to his daughter.

* * *

 

"I was wondering where you were," Sabine said as soon as they arrived the Weaver's apartment. Tilly's eyes were wide and she felt a bit breathless from their run from the bus stop to here. "The pills are on the counter."

"Thanks Sabine."

She rushed towards it and took a glass of water, quickly swallowing one of the black and blue pills. Tilly didn't like the effects of them, but she also didn't like the voices whispering in her head when she forgot to take them, so she kept her treatment punctual. Sabine had taken the task of reminding her about the medicines daily ever since she became Gideon's nanny and Tilly felt really grateful for that.

"Is he having a better time?" Margot asked entering the living room and pointing at the sleepy baby laying inside the Moses' basket.

"He is still a bit fussy," Sabine said as Tilly approached them and bent over to take a look at her brother. "I think he hates the taste of all formulas Weaver bought."

"Poor little thing," Margot sighed, running a finger along Gideon's chubby cheek, he wants his mother."

"I want her too," Tilly murmured to herself.

She knew how difficult it was to have something you loved so very much taken from you. Belle was not just her mother but her best friend in the world and if she missed her, then Tilly betted that Gideon who had spent nine long months nestled inside her, should miss Belle even more.

They heard the door being opened and Tilly looked up to see her father entering the apartment, his laptop bag in one hand and a brown leather jacket in the other, he smiled tenderly at them and walked towards her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Weaver asked. "I've called you a couple of times."

"Sorry papa, I was probably in the bus and didn't hear it."

"No problem, I was just going to rant about how Rogers disappeared the whole day."

Margot exchanged a glared with her, taking a seat on their large couch and crossing her arms as she kicked off her black boots.

"What must have happened to him?" She asked in a sarcastic tone.

Tilly rolled her eyes, but a part of her was still trying to find out what was wrong with Rogers and what could be so important for him to insist in talking to her the way he did in that day.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any writing mistakes, English is not my first language.  
> Share your thoughts about this fic with me, if you want to.


End file.
